We Hate You I Know
by Fantasy Dreamer45678
Summary: Creekfur of RiverClan has a mate in ThunderClan. He has three mates. Will she figue that out? I'm bad at summerys! First SecretClan challenge! Please R&R!


We Hate You. I know.

_Authors note: Well, here it is. _

_ Characters: Woodheart- brown tom with amber eyes. Arrogant,Unwise, and disrespectful. Creekfur- Silver she-cat with blue eyes fighter 'till the end. RiverClan Softpelt- Soft white she-cat with green eyes ThunderClan. Soft-spoken, respectful, loyal. Beewing- Golden black she-cat with green eyes. Prickly, and loyal. ShadowClan._

* * *

Creekfur was steaming. Even at night it was hot out! The stars seemed to shimmer off her pelt. Her blue eyes were like deep blue pools of understanding.

"What are you doing?" A voice asked from behind her. She spun, claws out. Creekfur relaxed.

"Oh," She sighed. "Hello, Reedstar." Reedstar walked up to the she-cat and sat down.

"We haven't had rain in awhile," he commented. Creekfur nodded.

"If it doesn't rain soon the lake will go dry!" She mewed. Creekfur really wasn't in the mood to chat with her father at the moment. But dear old Reedstar was taking his good old time.

"How is Moonpaw doing?" He asked.

"Fine," she mewed stiffly. Finally, he got to the point.

"You're so close to the border," he meowed. "The gathering isn't until tomorrow." Creekfur flicked her tail restlessly.

"I know. I am just looking for a cool spot of grass to lay down on," she lied. Reedstar seemed to know that his daughter was not telling the truth, but he did not mention it.

"Just, don't pass over the border," He ordered. Reedstar stood and padded away. Creekfur did a sigh of relief. Now she can go!

Silently, like a shadow, she dashed over the hard tough ground. Creekfur always loved the wind to her face. Best feeling in the world. She was RiverClan though, yet she longed to live in WindClan.

Creekfur slammed into something hard. She staggered backwards. A giant log was in her way. She did a mental paw palm. It was the log bridge to the island.

The she-cat hated this part. It was always to slippery and, well, slippery. She clung on with her claws digging into the soft bark.

"I am not going to die, I am not going to fall off," Creekfur muttered to herself.

"So," came a voice from behind her. "Do you think your going to fall off?" Creekfur jumped and, guess what, she fell off. She would have hit she shallows underneath her if someone hadn't grabbed her scruff. She was right near the end of the log anyway, but it still hurt when the cat threw her.

Did she hit she sand? No. Did she splash into water? Nope. What _did_ happen was that she hit a rock.

Creekfur was a strong she-cat so she stood up without any pain. Slowly, she turned. Relief, love, and anger came over her all at once.

"You know," she mewed with anger. "You could have put me back on the log, or gently place me down." The cat shrugged.

"I don't have to," he retorted. Creekfur rolled her eyes and shook her pelt.

"Honestly, I do not know how I put up with you, Woodheart!" She mewed irritably. Woodheart shrugged.

"Because, you love me and I love you back," he explained. Creekfur didn't mean to, but she let out a purr. Woodheart sat down and curled his tale around his paws. Without letting him ask he question Creekfur gave the answer.

"Hunting!" Woodheart shook his head.

"Hunting is a waste of time!" He hissed. Creekfur stared at him.

"Rude much?" She growled. Creekfur turned away from him. "If you wont go hunting, I'll catch something for you, lazy snake-heart!" Woodheart did not fallow the she-cat, of course.

"Too proud to get his paws dirty hunting! Stupid arrogant piece of otter-dung!" She cursed under her breath. Creekfur didn't mean it of course. She loved him. And that was that.

Creekfur knew that Woodheart wouldn't like fish. He would rather have a mouse. Moron! Who couldn't like fish?

The silver she-cat sniffed the air. Bird. Slowly, Creekfur got in her crouch. She inched forward. It was getting a worm out of it's hole.

_SQUAK!_

Yes! She caught it easily. Stupid birds didn't know when to hide.

"Creekfur!" Woodheart called. She popped up out of the bushes. "I have to go," he mewed.

"Okay," she murmured. Creekfur was going to tell Woodheart that she was expecting kits in three moons. Oh well, it can wait.

Woodheart started out toward the lake. He kept walking into the water until only his ears were visitable. Was he planning to drown himself?

"Woodheart!" Creekheart screeched. "Use the bridge!" He launched himself out of the water.

"I knew that!" He meowed swiftly. An uneasy feeling came over Creekfur. _He's not telling me something!_ She thought. As he disappeared into the blackness, Creekpaw slide into the water. If he was going to go do something she didn't know about, Creekfur was going to follow him.

* * *

Beewing was pacing beside the spot were she always met Woodheart. _Where the darkforest is he?!_ She paced back and fourth. The moon shone on her golden black pelt. Her green eyes were full of suspicion.

"Hello,beautiful," came a meow from behind her. With a angry hiss, Beewing spun around and tackled the brown tom. He smelled of RiverClan!

"Why do you smell like RiverClan?!" She asked. Her pelt was bristling.

"I passed by the RiverClan border to get here," he explained. His amber eyes were full with truth. With a sigh, Beewing got off her mate.

"Are you expecting kits yet?" He asked. Woodheart had been with Beewing the second longest.

"No," she sighed. "And even if I did they would stay in ShadowClan!" Woodheart looked hurt.

"Why can't one of them come to ThunderClan?"

"Because, you rat-brain! I am loyal to ShadowClan and always will be!" She hissed. Woodheart shrugged.

"Suit yourself!" He mewed. "I'm going to go hunting." He started for a thorn bush.

"That is a thorn bush, Woodheart!"

* * *

Creekfur could not believe her eyes. Woodheart had hunted with a ShadowClan cat, shared tongs, and then he told her that he loved her! Now he was leaving. Back to ThunderClan, maybe.

"You better watch out, Woodheart," Creekheart breathed. "I am watching you!"

* * *

Softpelt was getting worried. Woodheart went out hunting a long time ago. He was going to find her a vole in the woods. Softpelt was glad that he cared about her and their kits, but Woodheart didn't need to go to this much trouble!

Her white pelt was fluffed up with frustration. Her green eyes filled with worry. The bramble screen rustled and then Woodheart came through.

"There you are!" Softpelt exclaimed. She didn't even mind that he didn't catch her a vole.

"Sorry," he mumbled.

"You don't have to apologize!"

"Okay, good night my love!"

"Wait," Softpelt yawned. "Sleep with me and the kits tonight." Woodheart shrugged and pressed his back against hers.

* * *

Creekfur made her way back to camp. She had an idea. She knew that Softpelt and Beewing were going to be at the gathering tomorrow. She knew how to get back at him.

* * *

"I have an announcement!" Creekfur announced. Reedstar looked irritated.

"Woodheart has three mates!" Silence.

"WHAT?!" Beewing screeched. Softpelt looked horrified. Woodheart also looked astonished.

"What are you talking about, Creekfur?"he asked.

"I'm talking about how I am about to shred you!" She hissed. Suddenly, Beewing and Softpelt were at her side. Panic spread over Woodheart's face. He screamed like a little she-kit and ran away.

First, Woodheart ran into trees. Second, he fell into a thorn bush. And third, he fell off the log and hit his head on the rocks and went limp.

"Well," Creekfur mewed. "Ops."


End file.
